Am I the only one who thinks the Levenger’s catalog is akin to the big Sears Christmas wish book from many years ago? I could sit and drool at all the pretty notebooks and pens for hours. I mean let’s face it, even if you do most of your writing on a computer what writer wouldn’t want a spiffy leather bound portfolio and a funky fountain pen? But I’m on a bit of a budget as I strive to put together what Virginia Wolfe called “a room of her own” so I can write fiction. Truthfully, it’s a corner of a room that I share with my husband but we’ve been married for seventeen years so I’ve had a lot of practice of ignoring him when I need to write. So while it’s not technically a room of my own, it’s close enough.
The first thing equipping my author area is a desk. It’s a corner unit that I picked up from IKEA. The next is a comfy chair that I spent more than I wanted to on at Staples, but since my butt will be in it for long stretches of time, I figured it was worth it to be comfortable. Then there is my laptop and collection of thumb drives. I have a bunch of thumb drives because I’m paranoid that I’m going to lose one. So my back up files have back up files.
That’s the bare minimum of my office space. But it’s a little stark and sterile, even after I grab a tall glass of lemonade and a mug of tea. I couldn’t decide if I wanted hot or cold. Sometimes writing is like that too and I have to try both out before I’m satisfied. I write erotica under my pen name Lissa Trevor and contemporary romance under Jamie K. Schmidt. So I need to feed both sides of my muse.
Music helps. I hooked up Pandora radio and put on my headset, but my eyes kept straying to the blank wall. I needed some inspiration. Road trip time! I got into my car and drove to AC Moore. Michaels or Hobby Lobby would have worked too. All three of them have some inexpensive matted pictures guaranteed to catch the eye and inspire creativity. I picked up a few that made my imagination soar just looking at them.
On the way home, I made another stop at Staples because office supplies are my porn. I really dig colored paperclips and post-it notes with pithy sayings on them. Not to mention there are all sorts of things there to buy that you can put on your desk. I’m particularly fond of the “WTF?” stamp and the automated button that when you press it says “NO!” in several voices. There’s also one that says “BULLSHIT” too. I have a use for all three of these things in my writing and daily life. And the genius who decided that Staples should have a snack center by the registers should be given a promotion. So loaded down with paper, pens, gummy worms – you know, the essentials, I returned home to finish up my writing place.
I was trying to think what else I would need to really pimp my office. A bouquet of flowers would be nice – until they started to die. Then that would throw the feng shui of the room right off. Desk toys or figurines would add a little style, but also a lot of clutter. I have a hard time with clutter. For most of the week my dining room table is a horizontal filing cabinet.
I wanted something different. Something that said this was uniquely my space. A space for writing and productivity. A friend of mine has a treadmill desk. I really want to try that one day. I’m afraid, though, that with my lack of coordination, I’d wind up hurting myself.
I decided I probably should stick with the plain Jane office for the moment until inspiration hits. Maybe I’d make a vase with knitting needles in it or something crafty. When it was word time, I put on the music and got my butt in the chair. I was drinking my tea with a Twizzler straw (don’t judge), and staring at the pictures of Paris on the wall while tapping my purple gel pen.
All of a sudden, the cat launched herself onto the keyboard. I picked her up and put her down. She comes back, only this time, she wound around to the back of the laptop and stared at me over the screen.
This would be different. Apparently, I have a writing buddy.
I ignored her until she started to gnaw on the corner of the laptop. Wheeling over a table, I put a fluffy towel on top, and sprinkled a little catnip to interest her. So now I’m sugared up. The cat is stoned and the blank page is a little less daunting.
What do you have in your writing cave?
Lissa Trevor has her stilettos firmly entrenched in the romance community. Spank Me Mr. Darcy is her debut novel from Riverdale Avenue Books. She is a frequent reader at Manhattan’s Between The Covers events, where her novellas Wild Oats and Timelash from Coliloquy’s Entwined volumes 1 & 2 have been very popular. Lissa also created an erotic story template for Coliloquy’s ValEntwined promotion that allowed readers to download a personalized ebook starring themselves and their significant other. You can find her at http://lissatrevor.wordpress.com/
Netherfield, infamous for its debauched parties of excess and luxury, has a new Master.
After finagling an invitation to the ball, Elizabeth Bennet is introduced to the powerful and prideful Mr. Darcy, while her sister Jane has captivated the new owner, Mr. Bingley. Having contented herself with the pleasurable caresses of her best friend, Charlotte Lucas, Elizabeth is intrigued with the sensuality she finds at Netherfield. But it isn’t until her sister Jane is taken ill and Elizabeth stays at Netherfield to nurse her back to health that she finds the dungeons of Netherfield and the man in the black mask who becomes her Master.
By the time she leaves Netherfield, Elizabeth will have become disenchanted with her childhood playmate and obsessed with Mr. Darcy, her Master, who has told her that she would be more marriageable as a Netherfield submissive than as a curious virgin. Elizabeth holds on to her affront at his callous regard for her until Charlotte marries Mr. Collins and Jane is discarded by Mr. Bingley. Unwilling to save herself for a man who’ll make a good match and determined not to suffer Jane’s heartbreak, when she meets Mr. Darcy again at Rosings Park, she decides to become his slave and offers him her virginity.
But when she finds out that her cruel Master has destroyed Jane’s chance at marriage with Mr. Bingley, she rejects Mr. Darcy – even as he reluctantly proposes marriage to her. It isn’t until he saves her sister Lydia’s reputation and brings Jane and Bingley together, that Elizabeth realizes that she loves him. If he still loves her, she would be most willing to take her punishment for rejecting him – and live happily ever after.